


Director's Cut

by shirasade



Category: The Inside (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dark and Twisted, Episode Related, F/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4101463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirasade/pseuds/shirasade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reenactment in the dungeon in episode 1x03 - Old Wounds takes a different turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Director's Cut

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my usual writing fare, but I'd been re-watching this short-lived show and this simply demanded to be written, although the dubcon-iness of it kind of makes my skin crawl. But then, so did the dungeon scene in the episode.

“He was closer than that,” Rebecca said, and Paul swallowed before complying with Web’s unspoken order to do the same, even as he hated himself for reacting. 

His discomfort must seem so transparent, both to his boss and to his young co-worker. Rebecca was looking at him with unblinking eyes, her face blank although they were currently restaging an event that had left her shaking and with a hole in her memory. And she was so close now, he could feel their breaths mingle, and if he hadn’t been strangely, uncomfortably aroused before, he certainly was now. 

He didn’t understand any of it - not his reaction to Rebecca when he had his lovely Karen at home, not the pull of Web’s words that his body followed as if of its own volition, not the setting in a sex dungeon with whips and chains and leather. It formed a black backdrop against which Rebecca’s fair hair and blue eyes seemed almost luminous and into which Web almost disappeared, melted. Paul’s dislike of the whole BDSM scene, with its implications of violence and sex inseparably mixed, had been instant and visceral, yet here he was, helplessly caught in Web’s strange little reenactment.

Paul’s entire focus was on Rebecca, the fluttering of her eyelids as she glanced down, Web’s voice, deep and smooth, barely registering but keeping him rooted in place nonetheless: “What did he do next?”

“He cuffed me,” Rebecca replied, meeting Paul’s gaze in what could be a challenge. Paul balked, looked away from her and over her shoulder, but all it took was a firm nod from Web and he began to move around her, intending to mime the action. He didn’t quite know why he was obeying so easily, considering that his colleague must still be in pain from earlier, but a shake of Rebecca’s head, which he felt more than saw, stopped him in his track: “He… he kissed me, and he reached around me.”

They were still so very close, he knew Rebecca had to feel him stiffen, his mouth suddenly dry. Web certainly saw, because once again his voice broke through the tense atmosphere, smooth like a knife through butter: “You heard her.”

“Web, you can’t be serious!” His own voice was shaking, and Paul hated himself for hesitating, still hovering in Rebecca’s space instead of doing the only sane thing and stepping back and away from this whole situation. But he could feel her body pressed against his, and at least he’d said _something_. All words left him, however, when Rebecca looked up again, bringing their faces almost to a level, and her gaze turned soft in a way Paul had never seen before. He shivered, suddenly cold, and then their mouths were touching.

It was barely a press of lips against lips, and a part of Paul kept hoping almost against hope that this would be it. It was a hope that evaporated with the disconcerting touch of long fingers around Paul’s wrists, Web reaching around Rebecca’s slim hips and leading Paul’s arms to the small of her back. Something metallic touched the back of his left hand, and he didn’t need Web’s cool touch to know he was supposed to cuff Rebecca, the same way her attacker had. She was so pliant against him, allowing him to fumble the cuffs closed until her arms were bound behind her back, the only reaction a slight hitch in her breath. It was enough, causing her mouth to fall open, and suddenly they were kissing, a real kiss, Paul painfully hard against Rebecca, and her body arching slightly towards him.

A small voice in Paul’s head wondered how the hell he had ended up in this position, but it was all-too-easily drowned out by the moist flicker of Rebecca’s tongue against his lower lip and the startling reappearance of Web’s hands. Their boss was still standing behind Rebecca, a silent presence hovering at the edge of Paul’s awareness, and when his fingers slid between their bodies, Paul flinched. However, it wasn’t enough to get Paul to break away, not even when his zipper was lowered. It was Rebecca who froze, the only warning Paul had before Web wrenched her up by chain linking the cuffs to the ceiling, a pained groan escaping her as she was roughly jerked away.

Reflexively Paul gripped her hips, supporting her weight until he felt her go slack against him, her mouth wordlessly seeking his again. If she hadn’t Paul might have had the strength to put a stop to all this. Instead he could feel Web push down Rebecca’s pants, then her bare legs wrapped themselves around him, guided by Web with the closest thing to gentleness Paul had ever seen his boss use. Then the last bit of rational thought fled him as, without further preamble, Rebecca slid onto his erection.

She was slick and tight around him, and Paul gasped into her mouth, his hands tightening their hold. Web had retreated again, but Paul was all too aware of his presence, which somehow only served to fuel the fire he felt racing through his body, setting him ablaze until he was mindlessly rutting up into Rebecca’s heat. Their movements were too jerky for kissing, but Paul could hear and feel Rebecca pant against his ear even over the rushing of his own blood.

It didn’t last long, couldn’t, not when it felt to Paul as if he’d been on the edge forever. Still, there was this voice inside him that wouldn’t allow him to let go, as if he was waiting for permission. Then, when he didn’t think he could hold on anymore, Rebecca gave a small gasp, almost too low to hear unless one was close, as close as Paul was. She shuddered against him, and Web said, voice pitched low: “It’s okay, Paul.”

Paul came, bucking helplessly - and choked on a curse when his wife’s hand reached out to shake him awake, worried that he was having a nightmare. Long after he’d calmed her down, Paul lay awake, staring at the ceiling and trying hard not to remember the feeling of Rebecca’s body and the sound of Web’s voice.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I cheated and made it a dream. I'm apparently the worst at writing dark fic. :)


End file.
